Alchera
by Meesh
Summary: Anderson asks Shepard to recover missing tags from the original Normandy's crash site; she complies immediately, but can she handle returning so soon?  Moderate Shenko hints.


Anderson asked me to recover the Normandy's missing crewmembers' tags. How could I say no? All those people believed in me. They followed me into mutiny, into what we all thought was a suicide mission. If there was one thing I owed them, it was recovering their tags for their families. As Joker announced that we had entered the system, I forced my legs to move. It was like dragging lead. I stumbled up to the cockpit and stared out the window. There it was. Alchera.

My stomach felt as cold, as hard, as the planet below looked. The last time I had looked out on this icy planet, _I was dying._ Thinking my last thoughts, watching my ship – and who knew how many crewmembers – die. _So many things died that day_. I didn't realize my fingers were gripping Joker's chair as tightly as they were; not until his fragile hand reached up to awkwardly pat my wrist. My eyes flicked down and saw the far too pale skin, stretched taut over tense muscles as it gripped the leather headrest. _I shouldn't be here, not this soon_. It was… It had only been a week for me.

A week ago, I died here. Everyone else may have had two years to deal with the loss, and that was great for them; but for me, it was a week. _One week._ I waved off Chambers and all the other concerned people who tried to corner me on the way to the shuttle. I would do this alone. None of them, none of them at all, would understand. Only Joker and Chakwas would, and I refused to ask either of them to go through it. This was something I had to do on my own.

I sealed myself away in the shuttle and wrenched off my helmet, leaning my forehead against the side of the craft. At least I was finally alone. I couldn't be truly alone in my room…that damned AI was everywhere. I didn't even want to take _showers _because of it. I let one tear – one – fall and quickly wiped it away before sitting down to navigate myself to the surface. One tiny part of my mind, the illogical and really stupid part, told me it'd be best if I just cut all the powers and let the craft plummet to the surface. I was supposed to be dead, right here, anyway. Then I wouldn't have to deal with even my oldest friends distrusting me. I wouldn't have to work with Cerberus. Why not damn the rest of the galaxy to death; I already was the walking dead. What help could I be, anyway? Just when I was seriously contemplating listening to the suicidal nagging, a beep on the console snapped me out of it. I was through the planet's atmosphere and my sensors had found the wreck.

I touched down and quickly jammed my finger into the console's communications panel. I had to clear my throat before hailing the ship. It was an imposter, just like everything I had met since my 'reawakening.' "Normandy, I've touched down. Maintain radio silence and do not hail me unless you're getting blown up again. Copy?"

Joker's voice was shockingly free of sarcasm, or even good humor; I guess the tone in my voice was just that obvious. Then again, he could just be feeling as sick as I was at being back here. "Aye, aye." His choice of words hit me like a bullet to the gut: those were the last words Kaidan ever said to me. _A week ago_. Joker didn't know, so I can't blame him. It still caught me off guard. Coming back here may break me, but broken or not, I was Commander Shepard – first human Spectre, hero of the Blitz, and I'm sure they could come up with a few more titles if they wanted to. I was here to give my crewmembers' families some peace of mind, and I would do just that. Shaking my head to clear it, I shoved my helmet back on and went out into the whirling storm of snow and memories.

The first thing my eyes were greeted with was the Mako, sitting atop a half-crushed boulder in all its frozen glory. We went on so many missions with that damn thing…I was a horrible driver in it. The handling was horrific, and my desire to drive it up straight inclines didn't exactly endear the vehicle to many in my crew. _Wrex_ loved it, of course. I still remembered the one time on Therum where I managed to climb _up _that 90 degree angle hill and shoot that barricade's turret down at the same time. Kaidan was sure I was going to get us all killed, but I didn't. The thought brought a stupid smile to my face until I focused back on the now-defunct machine in front of me. My smile dropped immediately as I remembered, yet again: that was _two years ago._ I kicked a stray rock in defiance of this fact before trudging off.

The wreck was truly in multiple pieces. Only someone intimately acquainted with the ship would've been able to recognize some of the pieces of metal. I shuffled along in the snow until I reached what used to be the armory. _Ash._ Remembering the bright, if misguided, Gunnery Chief made me physically ill. To my mind, she'd been alive a few months ago. I kneeled down and scooped some snow into a gloved hand. "I am still so sorry, Ash. You knew I didn't choose him because of that. You were a damn good soldier until the end." I squeezed the snow, but it was too dry to clump. It drifted between my fingers before letting the wind carry it toward a glint of metal. Another tag. My mission came back to the forefront and after another quiet moment of observance, I moved toward it.

I promised myself I wouldn't cry, and I always keep my promises. At least, that's what I told myself. That was before I found Pressley's journal. The entries were mostly scrambled, but there was enough to show his personal misgivings about the crew; enough to show that over time, he came to respect and care for all of us – even the aliens. I couldn't help it, the tears just began to fall. We hadn't talked too often outside of mission briefings and mess hall conversations, but the fact that I made a real impact on his life was clear: I had instilled in him the willingness to trust other species. It made his loss even harder to remember. I tucked the half-broken data pad into my medigel pack, determined his family would get it. The words of a lost loved one, even words not about you, could be comforting. He deserved that, the chance to share his thoughts with his family.

I thought I'd steeled myself enough by the time I stumbled across what used to be my cabin. I was wrong. The door was twisted wide open, and the console where Kaidan had usually spent his time was lying on the ground. I stiffly moved across the snow-covered ground, dragging one foot at a time. The cold must've numbed my legs. At least, that's what I told myself; I didn't want to think that I just couldn't handle being here again. I'm Commander Shepard, goddamn it! I can survive anything. I forced myself through the door and the memories washed over me.

I could remember standing in this doorway, looking out at the mess hall and laughing at Ashley's latest "mess with Joker" plan as it came to fruition. I tried to lock it manually after we met up with the pirates who were responsible for the Blitz. Kaidan walked through this door, right before Ilos. I had asked him to hardwire it shut when we had snuck back onto the Normandy after the Citadel battle. We had stolen one final passionate kiss, pressed against the bulkhead, before heading out that fateful morning. That last memory finally shattered my thinly held composure, my hand dragging along that same bulkhead. My legs buckled as my whole body scraped down metal on the way to the ground.

That was only _a week ago._ I could still smell him, taste him, hear and feel him. I curled as best I could, legs pulled against my chest. My suit began to frantically beep as I accidentally hit the oxygen release button…I absentmindedly canceled the order and rocked against myself.

Everything had changed around me, but I was still the same. They may have brought me to life and gave me a second chance, but the one thing Cerberus could never do was give me back those two years. I was stuck in the past, and no one could bring me back to the real present. _My _present was aboard the very ship whose _wreckage _I now huddled against, _my _present was that only last week I laid in a bed _right here _in Kaidan's arms. _My _present was lost forever.

_I want it back_.


End file.
